


Cape Jasmine and Lilacs for Christmas

by HexChub



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Feeding, Feeding Kink, M/M, Secret Crush, Stuffing, Tight Pants, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:42:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HexChub/pseuds/HexChub
Summary: Jack is a baker with a handful of secrets. He has a crush on the florist across the street. He has a kink for feeding people up. He has a fear of being rejected. All of these secrets hit the tipping point leading up to Christmas, and he can only hope his whole world doesn't tumble down.





	Cape Jasmine and Lilacs for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Oof that title though... This has been saved as 'Secret Santa' for weeks and I didn't consider actually naming it, so sorry about THAT lol. That said, this is a indeed secret santa gift to one of the best mods I've ever had the pleasure of interacting with. Merry Christmas and happy holidays, lovely.

_**Prologue.** _

When they'd first started their monthly business meet-ups, Jack had insisted he would not have time to attend. _Every_ Friday? Come on. Cut an old man some slack, he had to wake up at 3AM just to get everything ready at the bakery. Come Friday night he wanted some peace and quiet, not a crowded bar with a bunch of strangers who worked on the same street. Then Gabe had insisted, and since they had been dating he felt obliged, but... even after they broke up, he started going again. Sporadically.

Part of it was proving to Gabe there was no hard feelings, but... honestly, unwinding with friends was nice. Gabe and Ashe from the tattoo parlor; Jamieson, Brigette and Lucio from the coffee shop; Mako and Moira from the bookstore; Olivia and Hana from the cybercafe and even Angela and Ana from their private health practice. They couldn't all make it every time, but they all tried. Life got in the way more often than not, so the meetup was usually between three to seven of the most available owners and operators, with all twelve showing up on a rare night, but... it was fun. Even for Jack, who Gabe swore was allergic to fun.

Jack hadn’t missed a Friday recently, though. Not since the newest member of their “street team” joined up. Hanzo Shimada, owner and operator of the flower shop that opened up just across the street. He was younger than Jack, but old enough to have a bit of pepper grey in otherwise jet-black hair that he tied back into a ponytail and ribbon. Always a ribbon. Often deep, dark blue, sometimes black, and one a striking sky blue.

Maybe Jack was a bit taken, making note of the ribbon colors, but it wasn’t as though Hanzo didn’t give him opportunity to notice. In the five weeks since he’d opened his shop he must have come to Jack’s bakery at least three times a week, sometimes even four. That was what drew Jack’s attention at first.

“ _Getting doughnuts for your workers?”_ he’d asked. Stupid. Don’t make small talk. He knew better. But when Hanzo sheepishly answered “ _Ah, no, no other workers yet. Maybe when business picks up a bit.”_ that was the moment he had Jack’s attention. The amount of pastries Hanzo had bought, enough for a small team, all for one florist to nibble on throughout the day…

He learned over their friday night meetings that Hanzo was soft-spoken, but a good man. He loved flowers and “ _Ikebana_ ”, flower arranging. So much so that once he actually spoke of “ _Hanakotoba”_ , the language of flowers, at length to the group before apologizing for getting carried away. Jack would have listened for hours.

It didn’t help that Jack had a… thing. A  thing about watching men eat. A thing about watching them get _fat_ . And almost every other day, Hanzo would stop by the bakery, and eat, and… well, it was bound to show eventually. That thought was driving the old baker absolutely insane. He'd watch Hanzo moan into a pastry, or close his eyes when he was enjoying a cookie so his long lashes painted over his cheeks, or lick his fingers after anything with frosting and his lips were so pink and so was his **tongue** \- it was sensual, even if that was just Jack's twisted feeder brain.

Then one day Jack saw one of Hanzo’s buttons pop. Just… a gentle, unassuming pop as it freed itself from the too-tight button up shirt the man wore, and his undershirt showed itself, proud and tight around a _pot belly_.

He was falling. Hard.

_**Friday, December 6th** _

The meetup always started around six o’clock. That was when the last of the shops- outside of the cyber cafe and the coffee shop- closed on Fridays. A bit early, but small towns were like that. Jack was lucky in that regard, he always closed up the bakery at four and had an hour to himself before he had to get ready for the outing. He lived above the bakery, just like Angela and Moira lived above the bookshop (Mako always went off on a motorcycle to his home, no one actually knew where he lived except for Jamieson, who lorded it over the rest of them) and how Gabe lived above the tattoo parlor. That was something else you saw in small towns, he supposed.

He walked into the bar wearing a simple outfit, not trying to impress. Or at least that’s what he’d told himself when he spent thirty minutes deciding on _this_ turtleneck going with _this_ exact jacket framed him nicely. Hanzo always seemed to have nice clothes on, even casual. Jack had stepped it up a bit recently. Though to be fair, after he and Gabe broke it off he was just a sweater and sweatpants guy for a few weeks, so everything was uphill from there.

“Hey Johnny!”

“Fuck you.”

Jack said it before he was even able to spot Gabe, who was sitting with Ashe in one of the booths. Is ex waved as Ashe huffed at their antics, clearly smirking even though her wide-brimmed hat blocked the light from hitting her face. Despite his venomous reply, he and Gabe were on friendly terms now. It had been touch-and-go for a bit, though, and Gabe knew he hated his real name.

It looked like a bigger group than usual this week. Moira, Angela, Hana and Lucio were all nearby. And, of course, Hanzo. He never missed a meeting. Hanzo, Jack, Angela and Gabe seemed to be the four “core” members, never missing a meeting.

He enjoyed some small talk with Moira and Angela for a bit, watching Hanzo from the corner of his eye. Enough that Gabe nudged him once or twice but he ignored him. It was… difficult not to stare.

Hanzo ate more of it than the other seven combined. Chicken wings, nachos, calamari, chips and dip, mozzarella sticks, fajitas, all with beer on top... The short Japanese man picked at it all and seemed nothing but elegant going about it, somehow. He wore a black shirt that did nothing to hide his stomach, and even less as it pulled up. He'd gained another couple of pounds since last time. Jack just had a sense for these things. The florist looked rounder all over. His black v-neck sweater should have been slimming, but instead it only seemed to highlight the flower peddlers stomach and, oh god help him, his breasts. Those were new, just starting to bud above his potbelly. It was practically lewd, but only to a man with Jack's preferences.

“Just fucking talk to him.” Gabriel growled at Jack at one point. Jack growled back. Not even words. Just a grunt.

They had a good night, and for the record Jack _did_ talk to Hanzo. Three times. First, he said hello, and Hanzo had replied in kind. Later, he passed the man the calamari and agreed that it was, indeed, quite good even though Jack was lying about that because he was sure he’d vomit if he actually ate it. Finally, they said goodnight to one another and waved as Jack departed, a little tipsy and thinking that Hanzo’s shirt was puckering _just perfectly_ above his little belly.

_**Tuesday, December 17th** _

“Seriously, Morrison. Grow a spine and ask him out already.”

They were watching Hanzo cross the street through the window of the bakery. He didn’t waddle. Not quite yet, but… it was still exciting to see how close it was. The smart pair of slacks he wore with his light blue button-up shirt was straining the seams and framed an ass that was certainly not this big before he started working across the street from Jack’s sweets. Jack could almost take credit for it. Maybe a bit of him did.

“Jack? Jack. Jesus christ you are hopeless.”

“I can hear you.” Jack responded grouchily, using a damp cloth to make sure the counters stayed clean.

“He’s got to be coming in every day now, isn’t he?” Gabriel asked. He was all in black, highlighting every inch of his chiseled form. He chuckled. “Yup. Definitely your type.”

Jack huffed and shook his head, but there was a nagging in the back of his mind. His eyes moved down to Gabe’s waist, just for a second, but it’s a second that his ex catches. He’s good at that.

“You never know unless you try. Maybe he’s into it.”

“You weren’t.” Jack said. “And you were kind of a dick about it.”

“Yeah, a bit.” Gabe admitted with a shrug. “But maybe he is. Or maybe you can convince him. Hell, there are some persuasive arguments for indulging your perviness even if it doesn’t rustle your jimmies. I was damn tempted to go to pot for you. Mr. Shimada is already there, from the looks of things.”

The old baker sighed, not sure exactly how to respond to that. Sure, maybe Hanzo was fat already (he was), but that didn’t make it okay to lust after him like this. It didn’t make it okay to think about how the desserts he made every morning were contributing the the stress on Hanzo’s slacks, or the way his chest is puffing up, or those chubby cheeks…

“Just ask him out.” Gabe encouraged again, a little softer this time. He could have his kind moments. Jack always knew that. “Your constant fawning is embarrassing.”

Of course, Gabe’s kind moments were just that. Moments.

_**Friday, December 20th** _

This meeting was smaller. It made sense. Christmas right around the corner and all that. Gabe was there, of course, and was chatting up with Lucio about his first tattoo, a topic that came up from time to time. Gabriel had been so patient considering the little guy had changed his mind two or three times in the span of two weeks. Apparently, now he was almost certain he wasn’t a frog wearing headphones since he was DJing regularly now. Instead of listening to their exchange about _where_ the tattoo would go, Jack was in the booth trying to behave like a normal human with Hanzo, the only other person in attendance. It didn’t help that Hanzo was eating. A lot.

“Forgive me. Things were quite busy today, I hope it is not too much of a bother if I ordered a meal?” he’d asked in small voice, setting a hand on his plush belly. No one had minded, and they ordered some appetizers and small meals themselves so that Hanzo wouldn’t feel self-conscious- at Lucio’s behest. He was probably the most considerate of the group.

Hanzo ordered the largest meal.

He also ate most of the appetizers.

Jack was practically sweating in his seat as he tried not to notice how strained the buttons of Hanzo’s shirt were. He had a few drinks as he watched, barely touching his own meal. Which meant it was available to push over to Hanzo’s side of the table when he asked if he was planning on finishing it.

His meal was probably what did it. On top of everything else, Hanzo’s tight button-up just could not take the strain. The thin blue fabric stretched over Hanzo’s stomach, which hung round and heavy over the lip of his slacks. Jack wasn’t trying to look, he wasn’t _trying_ to be a pervert, but he was certainly glad he’d been looking when he was able to catch the moment that not one, but **two** buttons released their grip from Hanzo’s shirt.

He wasn’t able to follow where they went. Not when he was too busy realizing that Hanzo must have decided not to wear an undershirt today. His lightly fuzzed, tanned gut filled the space two buttons had once warded off, falling forward just enough to have a barely noticeable wobble. Jack felt faint. However, he also watched Hanzo’s hand hurry to cover the hole, and  once he caught sight of the Japanese mans face he shirked off his jacket.

“Here.” he growled low, checking to make sure Lucio and Gabriel hadn’t seen. They were still talking excitedly.

Hanzo’s cheeks were so pink and soft. His chin was starting to double, even though he hid it behind his immaculate facial hair.

“Th… Thank you.” Hanzo whispered. His voice was always soft, but this time it held the subtle shake of embarrassment.

Jack gave a small smile- or what he hoped was a smile, he was often told he tended to grimace rather than smile.

“Walk me back to the bakery. I’m drunk.” he said, trying to give Hanzo an ‘out’. He knew the florist always took an uber home, so he could order one from Jack’s place without Gabe and Lucio asking why he was wearing Jack’s jacket.

Hanzo nodded eagerly and zipped the jacket up. The baker was relieved he was able to, though it wasn’t as though Jack didn’t have a bit of meat on his own frame… He wasn’t as big as Hanzo, though. Not _wobbling_ big.

“We’re checking out.” Jack said, tapping the table. “You two have fun.”

He took off before questions, certain that Gabriel was throwing a snarky smirk his way. Hanzo followed. He was very easily lead, though Jack suspected that wasn’t always the case. Rather, he suspected Hanzo was just frazzled and glad to have someone telling him how to get out of this situation.

It was snowing outside. Quiet, drifting snow. The streets had lamps lining either side, and even as cynical as Jack was he had to admit it was rather nice.

“Are you not cold?” Hanzo suddenly asked after a few moments of their shoes crunching against the frozen ground being the only noise.

“Nah.” Jack lied. His arms were freezing. He wore a thin t-shirt and jeans. Hardly an outfit for winter without a jacket. “We’ll be there soon.”

Once they got to the bakery Jack unlocked the front door and let Hanzo slip in, which the florist did in silence. He was usually a quiet man, and the fact that Jack was quite the same did not help matters. As soon as they were inside Hanzo leaned against the wall, his eyes on the ground, and Jack realized he was going to have to help matters.

“Hey, snap out of it.” he said gruffly, turning on the lights. Hanzo glanced up and offered a meek smile, though his cheeks were still slightly pink from the embarrassment combined with the cold.

“Thank you for helping me. That was an… awkward situation.”

Jack shook his head.

“Not that bad.” he said with a shrug, glancing over his shoulder to Hanzo in his jacket. The mans belly was still obviously rounded beneath it, and Hannzo had his hands in the pockets. “Could have been worse. Didn’t have an extra pair of pants with me.”

The florists hand moved to his thigh self-consciously. They were wide and pressing into one another, and the fabric was still _tight_ , even if it wasn’t breaking at the seams quite yet.

“That’s true, I suppose.” he said, his voice still as prim and proper as ever.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“What?”

The words had snuck out of Jack’s mouth before he’d been able to consider them. Damn it. He was supposed to only be _pretending_ to be drunk.

“... Pastries.” he iterated. Too late to back out now. “I save them at the end of the night. Someone from the local shelters comes over in the morning and gives them to folks for breakfast. They are still good for days after I bake them.”

As he spoke, he was already moving back into the kitchen to fetch the treats.

“I don’t like charging for them after the first day, but don’t want to throw them out, either.” he continued to explain. “It’s a waste.”

Hanzo nodded, eyes falling onto the glazed, sugared sweets. Jack didn’t like to brag, but there was a reason that his bakery thrived despite his less-than-sunny disposition. His desserts were good, and Hanzo’s growing waistline was at least something of a testament to that, and he was exactly drunk enough to take credit for that inwardly right now.

“I… probably shouldn’t.” he said softly, moving his hand down the wide curve of his stomach. It hovered just about where Jack knew for certain that his bare belly was pressing into the zipper of his jacket. Jack gulped and shook his head.

“You didn’t get dessert. At the bar.” he grumbled, nodding to the sweets. “You can have some while you wait for a ride.”

That must have sounded fair, because Hanzo approached the counter and licked his lips, eyes scouring over the desserts. Jack saw the greedy spark beneath the look even though there was no possible way Hanzo was still hungry after his large meal. Jack knew he shouldn’t push, that this was going too far, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe Hanzo felt the same as he took one of the sweets and took a bite. He pulled out his phone, but Jack could tell he wasn’t in much of a hurry to order his car.

“Thank you, Jack.” Hanzo said. His voice was as soft as his body and always the baker feel warm inside. How could he summon up such strong feelings with only a few words? “You were too kind back there. You did not have to help me.”

“I wanted to.” Jack said simply,nodding to Hanzo to sit down. He brought the whole tray over, making it seem casual. Just a tray of desserts. What could be suspicious about that? “You seemed upset.”

The sound Hanzo made was caught between a sigh and a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You are a very straight forward man.”

“That’s what I’m told.” Jack said. I only Hanzo knew how much he _wasn’t_ straightforward about. Like his pining. Or how much he wanted to run his hands over that tan gut he’d seen in the bar. And his lips. And his teeth.

Silence fell over them and Hanzo helped himself to a second pastry, and then a third before he spoke again.

“I’ve been meaning to replace my wardrobe. The holidays have gotten busy.” he said. “I apologize for the inconvenience I brought you.”

Jack shook his head.

“You’re fine. I probably did drink too much.” he admitted. He rubbed his temples, though he also used the moment to look at Hanzo’s chest. Was it stretching the jacket, too? Just a touch? It might have been. “You doing alright now?”

“Fine. A little embarrassed.” Hanzo admitted. “Grateful.”

“Y’don’t gotta be grateful.”

“I am, though. I can not take it back.” Hanzo teased, and Jack felt a little jolt in his heart when he saw the shy smile playing on the asian man’s lips. Damn. “Please accept my thanks.”

Jack shook his head adamantly, and Hanzo laughed.

“You are stubborn.”

“They tell me that, too.”

After that the night was hardly the stuffing fantasies from Jack’s wildest dreams, though Hanzo did have many more treats than one would have expected after a meal so large he popped out of his shirt. They talked a little. Hanzo revealed he had a family back home that he spoke to once a week over skype, and Jack talked about his own family a little bit. He didn’t realize he’d opened up until midway through, and even then he didn’t stop. Then he played dirty. He asked Hanzo about flowers.

“They have different meanings in Japan.” Hanzo elaborated between bites of a rich lemon bar. “For instance, _kiiroibara_ \- the yellow rose. In Western culture, it symbolizes friendship. In Japan, jealousy. Very different concepts. It was difficult relearning what I already knew. Though some are the same. Some can be rather damning if a mistake is made.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jack asked, happy to just sit back and listen.

“Well here, the cactus flower symbolizes maternal love.” he said. “In Japan, it stands for lust.”

Jack laughed and shook his head.

“No way.”

“My first Mother’s Day in America was filled with many upsetting arrangements until my previous coworkers explained the difference to me.”

“What’s your favorite?”

That question seemed to startle Hanzo, but then he smiled and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“There are many with beautiful flowers, with equally beautiful meanings.” he said soft. “I believe my favorite is the _kuchinashi_. Cape Jasmine, in America. It is a striking white and smells sweet for a very long time. Beautiful petals. It reminds me of snow. It symbolizes secret love.”

Jack felt his heart thudding in his chest and knew his ears were going red.

“What about you?” Hanzo asked softly.  “Do you have a favorite flower, Jack?”

“Never really gave that much thought.” Jack admitted. “Don’t know much about the meanings or any of that.”

“It does not have to represent anything. Just something that appeals to you?”

“Guess… my grandmother had lilacs. Didn’t bloom for long, but they made the whole house smell great, and the whole family loved them.” he thought, just as Hanzo’s phone lit up. Jack checked the windows and frowned when he saw a car parked in front of the bakery. “Here. You can have the rest of these to go.”

He stood up and went to fetch a box, putting the few treats that were left. He would be lying if he tried to tell himself he hadn’t kept count of what Hanzo had eaten. He had more than half the tray, and Jack packed the remainder certain that he would finish the rest at home.

“Would you… mind terribly if I kept your jacket until Monday?” Hanzo requested, placing his hand on his bulging belly. Jack shook his head.

“Course not. Have at it.” he said, though he really would have liked to have another look at Hanzo’s fat belly before he went home.

Hanzo left with Jack’s coat and an armful of cookies, and Jack spent the next few minutes in the bakery feeling a little lost.

 ---

Gabriel had called him ‘twisted’ when he’d first confessed. Then he’d laughed. Then when he realized that he’d hurt Jack’s feelings, he’d gotten defensive. That’s when some of the words and phrases that stuck in Jack’s mind were used.

He apologized, eventually. After the breakup. It had been a tense situation. Gabe had been a gym rat who broke his ankle when Jack had met him, and he wasn’t comfortable with the extra weight that had brought during the healing process. He’d lashed out. Jack forgave him, but… he couldn’t get it out of his head at the same time. Gabe had acted like Jack was some sort of predator. Like his affinity for bigger guys was somehow wrong.

Nowadays he would tease Jack for the exact same thing. Playfully. Tell him to go on dates with any marginally overweight person who crossed their path. It was nice to have someone to confide in, but that initial hot wave of judgement he’d seen on his now best-friends face would never truly wash away from his mind.

So… what would _Hanzo_ think?

_**Monday, December 23rd** _

“You won’t know until you ask, boy scout.” Gabriel grumbled. He was eating breakfast at the bakery before opening, which he did regularly. Now that he was back to working out he did not turn up his nose at sweets as much as he used to. “He doesn’t seem shy about eating.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll be okay with it.” Jack pointed out. He was filling the cabinets now with the fresh goods, his white shirt and apron still somehow pristine even after cooking.

“Can’t hurt to try.” Gabriel pointed out. Jack rolled his eyes while facing away, but Gabe must have picked up on that. “Look Jack. You got a chip on your shoulder about us. I get that, but… you got to get over it. We didn’t work together. Doesn’t mean you and the florist won’t live happily ever after.”

Jack grumbled, but did not even bother trying to respond. Gabriel was right. They weren’t good together. Even beyond the kink stuff. That had just been the straw that broke the camel's back, but it had shaken Jack up enough that he hadn’t dated since.

“Two years. Come on.” Gabriel said. “It’s been too damn long.”

“I have to open up soon.” Jack warned in place of an answer, and Gabriel sighed.

“Jack, he likes you. A blind man could see that. And you like him.” he said, tapping the counter. “One of you has to make the first move, already. The rest of us are getting sick of waiting.”

“I don’t see how that’s _my_ problem.” the baker grumbled.

“If you are that worried about him rejecting you later, you could just, you know… tell him upfront. Avoid the hassle.”

Jack hesitated then, glad he was in the kitchen so Gabe couldn’t see him. Walking back to the front of the bakery he shrugged.

“Wouldn’t that be… weird?” he asked. The question itself was in a way a confession. He was admitting to wanting to do exactly that, at least on some level.

“Well, yeah.” Gabriel said with a shrug. “But you’re weird, so. Seems fitting.”

Jack huffed and nodded towards the door.

“Go open the shop.” he commanded, and then glanced out the window. Hanzo’s shop was sitting across the street, looking quaint and inviting as always. “Actually, no. Just get out. I have something to do first.”

Gabriel said something snarky that Jack didn’t catch as he grabbed a bag. He knew Hanzo’s favorites, the ones he came for every day. Usually he picked two. Jack packed five, and then took a deep breath.

Now or never.

 ----

Both shops have always opened at the same time, but Jack didn’t mind opening late. Customers have been coming in later in the cold weather anyway, but more than  anything he just wanted to get this over with. If it all fell down like a house of cards, so be it, but at least he’d have an answer. Of course, as he approached Jack felt another something eating at him. His mind started to race a bit.

Kinks aside, there were plenty of _other_ reasons Hanzo would not be interested in him. He was too direct, too stubborn. He was boring. He drank too much. Hell, he was even a little on the pudgy side himself. Not even close to Hanzo’s weight class, but the army was long behind him and a body like Gabe’s was a distant, distant memory and now he had a little beer belly that pooched out when he sat down…

Thankfully, the ‘too stubborn’ part carried him through. Worst case scenario: his friday nights would open back up. Not too bad. There were definitely worse things than drinking alone in his apartment. With that thought, he opened the door and stepped inside. Hanzo had a small bell over the door frame that chimed as soon as he entered, garnering the florists attention.

The shop was small and wooden, the scent of flowers filling the air and the countertops arranged just _so_ to look tidy and beautiful. Very quiet music played in the background. Definitely Japanese, but Jack wouldn’t know what it actually was outside of ‘that sounds like an instrument that may or may not have strings’. It was all very cozy and inviting, just as Jack had expected even though he’d never actually visited.

“Jack?” Hanzo asked, looking over his shoulder. He was arranging a selection of flowers and only spared a glanced until he finished. “Welcome, I am sorry I did not bring your jacket back earlier. Some orders piled up online overnight, and I was planning on bringing it when I came to grab… Did you bring sweets?”

He fully turned, giving Jack the oh-so-perfect view of his heavy belly hanging over his slacks. His shirt fit today, but that gut moved back into love handles, and with his shirt all tucked in he had a perfect muffin-top all around his waist. Though something else caught his eye, as well. Hanzo almost always wore long-sleeve shirts, but this one… this one was short-sleeved, and showed off both of Hanzo’s rounded arms. One which happened to be slightly more eye-catching than the other. Hanzo caught him staring and chuckled.

“Do not tell Gabriel.” he said with a smile. “He is still trying to convince me to get my first tattoo at his shop, and I did not have the heart to tell him.”

Jack chuckled. Gabe always saw un-tatted friends as bare skin waiting to be sketched in. How they’d managed to date for as long as they did without Jack having one was still a mystery to them both.

“It’s nice.” Jack said, setting the bag onto the counter. “Didn’t peg you for the type.”

“Not anymore.” Hanzo said with a smile, looking down at the bag and offering a small chuckle. “Jack, if you start giving away your product to me regularly, I am afraid I may put you out of business.”

The words made Jack focus up. Mostly because if he _didn’t_ focus, he definitely would get carried away in his own fantasy world where that was a real possibility. Okay. How to do this, though? How to…

Shit. He should have thought this out.

“I wanted to place an order.”

Hanzo blinked, and Jack was almost certain something in his smile cracked for just a moment before he regained his composure.

“Of course.” he said. He reached under the counter and pulled out a piece of paper. “I can fill out most of this myself, so… I suppose first, occasion? Holiday flowers for friends or family?”

“Er. No. More… romantic. I guess.” Jack stumbled right out the gate. This time Hanzo’s smile did not falter, he just gave a nod and wrote it down.

“Do you know what sort of flowers you would like? It may take a day or two to acquire, and if they are not in season I could offer-”

“Cape Jasmine.”

The silence fell over the room like a blanket, and Jack’s eyes were firmly set on the ordering template between the two of them. He tried to focus on not letting himself blush, but the more he though about that the more he felt his face heating.

“Jack, I-”

“He… likes Cape Jasmine.” he went on. “And, it… fits. What I’m trying to tell him. Flower language. I think.”

Hanzo was staring at him, and Jack has to force himself to look up as well. He wondered what Hanzo saw. An old baker past his prime. At least ten years older. Eyes starting to go (but he won’t wear glasses unless he’s driving or reading, damn it). White hair, receding back on his forehead… Hanzo wasn’t exactly _young_. He had grey on the sides of his temples, but… he didn’t show his age as much as Jack did. He squared his shoulders and lifted his head, finally meeting Hanzo’s eyes. He had to lower his gaze to do so. Maybe his height would make up for his lack of confidence.

“I am sure he will like that very much.” Hanzo said, his own eyes quickly darting away and then back. “Did you have a time in mind? To pick them up?”

Jack gulped, though the smile Hanzo gave him was genuine, and just a bit sly. Enough for him to know for certain the florist knew his meaning. Now came the harder part. Because he couldn’t agree to any sort of date until he did this.

“Hanzo. I’m… Not good at the flower languages, or the flirting.” he admitted, shattering whatever clout he’d built with his ‘clever’ plan. “But before this goes any further, I have to tell you, I…”

His mouth felt dry. Twisted. That’s what Gabriel said. Even today, it was “weird”, wasn’t it? Best-case scenario, he was still weird. Perverted. How much would Hanzo put up with, really? Somehow he was flirting back even though Jack had so little to offer, and now he’s going to throw this weird fascination at him with no warning…

“I like that you like my desserts. And. I like the results of that, too.” he said. It all sounded so awkward in his gravelly voice. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, mussing up his short-cropped hair in the process for sure. Hanzo was still staring at him. His pen was down on the counter now, charade over.

“What are you trying to say?” Hanzo asked pointedly. And people said Jack was too straightforward. Maybe they were meant for each other.

“The other night. Your buttons.” Jack elaborated, curt and unable to find more words. “I liked that. So. If that makes you uncomfortable, now you… know.”

“You are a feeder?” Hanzo asked, and Jack felt his blood run cold. He was so surprised that he met Hanzo’s eyes again, and he saw the pink rising in the other man's cheeks. “Or, just a… chubby chaser?”

He hadn’t expected Hanzo to know the words. The type of words Jack almost never spoke out loud. The words he’d used in his confession to his ex, and then never again off of his late-night internet browsing.

“... Both.” he said firmly, eyes darting to the bag. “I’ll let you think about it.”

He was about ready to turn and run away. Hanzo wouldn’t know those words unless he had experience. Probably negative. Probably an ex like Jack, who confessed and made Hanzo feel betrayed. Like how Jack was betraying him now and-

“Don’t leave.”

There was a tug on his arm. Soft, chubby fingers taking his hand. Hanzo had run around the counter to stop him.

“Jack, I know the words because we are like-minded. We complement one another with our fixations.” Hanzo said, nearly tripping over his words they came so quickly. Unlike Jack, who lost all of his, Hanzo seemed to have too many now. “I noticed you looking. I was not sure if it was interest or... I was trying to find out. The buttons were an accident. I was reckless, but I wanted to be certain that you enjoyed it, that your gaze was… approval. Before I tried to move forward. I was being a coward.”

Jack hadn’t turned yet. At first it was embarrassment, but after that passed it was simply that he wanted to listen, letting Hanzo’s words wash over him. Then came disbelief, but as the florist rambled on that became relief. Hanzo walked around him and peered up. Such dark eyes. Strong features, even under the layer of pudge.

“Let me prove it to you.” he said softly. “And… it would make me feel more secure if you… proved it to me, as well.”

The baker hesitated, and then gave a nod.

“Tomorrow.” he said firmly. “You said you were spending Christmas alone. So am I. So.”

“Tomorrow.” Hanzo agreed, beaming. “Your home or mine?”

“I have food.”

“Your house it is.”

_**Tuesday, December 24th** _

Jack may have been spiraling most of the day, cleaning up his small apartment and baking up a storm downstairs. He changed four times, each time into a different color sweater, and even put on cologne. He made an actual _dinner_ as well as desserts, but he knew Hanzo had a sweet tooth and had the very dangerous ability to produce sweets on a large scale.

It was all worth it when Hanzo arrived. Once he shed his jacket he was wearing a silk black button-up with a blue tie, and black slacks. He looked about ready to go to the theater, or somewhere equally as respectable, and Jack felt stupid for his frumpy red christmas sweater, with little snowflakes all over it. Until Hanzo told him he  looked so handsome, and asked him where he got it.

“My brother got it for me last year.” he told him, hanging up his guests coat. “You look nice.”

“I was hoping you would say so.” Hanzo said with a grin, and he genuinely looked relieved. “It smells wonderful in here.”

That lead them to the kitchen, and filling up plates. Hanzo was not shy about filling his own up to the very brim, and for the first few bites they both behaved themselves, but the topic was going to be breeched eventually.

“You made quite a lot.” Hanzo noted, glancing towards the trays in the kitchen. “Is that all for me?”

Jack flushed, looking back as well. It was a lot. More than he should have made, but…

“I figured… if we both have something to prove, why not?” he said with a shrug. Casual. He was being casual about this. Almost as though he wasn’t stressed at all.

“And you would… help me eat it, too?” Hanzo asked. Jack nearly choked on his coffee. Casual.

“Sure.” he said, throat a little sore from trying to swallow so quickly. “If you are alright with that idea.”

“More than alright with it.” Hanzo said softly, his cheeks feeling warm. “It has been a long time since anyone has fed me… have you ever fed anyone before, Jack?”

Jack shook his head.

“Didn’t… really know it was what I wanted until I was past my prime. Finding someone else who wants it to has been…”

He trailed off. He didn’t want to  explain Gabriel right now. Thankfully, Hanzo took the reins and pushed his empty plate away.

“I think… maybe we should continue in the comfort of your living room, then?” he asked. There was a glint in his eyes, and Jack was powerless to resist. He didn’t want to. His heart was pumping hard in his ears as he watched Hanzo’s stomach push against his silk shirt. The light hit it perfectly to highlight his rounded, bloating belly. His tie sat on top of it, bending just under his chest to conform to the shape.

“You picked that to show off your stomach.” he realized, saying it out loud as soon as the thought struck him. “Your whole outfit… fits, but…”

Hanzo flushed.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” he confessed, smoothing his hand over his middle. “It’s soft. The… the material. Feel.”

Jack did not need to be told twice. He reached out and ran his fingers over the fabric. Hanzo was right. It was soft. So was the hulking gut beneath it. Despite how much dinner his date had eaten, Jack’s fingers still easily sunk into the layer of chub. He moved to clasp the Japanese mans love handle and pull him closer, and Hanzo raised his head.

“You like it?” he asked. How did he still doubt that? Jack felt like he would explode any second from just how good it felt to feel the mans chunky side in his palms. He moved the other hand up to squeeze lightly at the other side of the heavy orb. The love handles were just perfect. Pert and sweet and soft, framing that big, heavy belly…

“Yeah.” he said softly, giving the mans sides a jiggle. “And that’s alright with you?”

“More than alright.” Hanzo said.

They stayed like that for a moment, Hanzo allowing Jack’s hands to slide over his silk shirt, to feel the roundness of his gut, until he shimmied enough to free the fabric from the edge of his slacks, and Jack’s hands found their way up the fabric, pulling it to the florists’ belly button and giving the bottom of it some loving strokes. Their breathing had grown heavy, and only then did Jack realize how backwards it was that he’d given Hanzo’s gut so much attention, and not the rest of him. He raised his eyes and was met with the deep brown ones, and Hanzo offered a small smile.

“I was looking for mistletoe. I did not find any.” he said softly. Jack chuckled and leaned down, kissing the man lightly on the lips. As soon as he pulled back Hanzo wrapped his arms around his neck. “A holiday rebel, then. I like it.”

The night was a pleasant, comfortable one. Or as comfortable as Jack could make it, considering what a bloated, hiccuping mess Hanzo was by the time the trays were clear. Black shirt open, sides framing a huge, rounded, wobbling mass of a tummy. Jack, sweater cast aside, tempting him with more and more sweets. Rewarding him with kisses. Telling him how beautiful he was with every bite, and Hanzo returning the sentiment. And in the morning when the Christmas sun rose, it shined down on the two of them curled into one another in Jack’s bed, both men with smiles on their faces as they slept.


End file.
